


Save You

by QueenKatelynTheAristocrat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco Malfoy, Canon Rewrite, Coming Out, Draco Malfoy Redemption, Draco Malfoy is Obsessed with Harry Potter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Experienced Harry Potter, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Has a Saving People Thing, Harry Potter is Obsessed with Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Room of Requirement, Room of Requirement Shenanigans, Smut, Top Harry Potter, Virgin Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenKatelynTheAristocrat/pseuds/QueenKatelynTheAristocrat
Summary: Draco was fully meeting his eyes now. He was looking at Harry like he had the ability to give him the universe.“And now? How do you feel now?”"Right now?” How did Harry feel right now? “Like I want to save you.”Draco closed his eyes, and when he opened them again Harry saw that it was because he was holding back tears. “No one has ever said anything like that to me before.” he whispered.“I’ll say it again if you want.”Otherwise known as: Draco has internalized homophobia because Lucius is a dick, and Harry wants to teach him what it's like to be freeContains: soft, vulnerable Draco, confident, powerful harry, the Room of Requirement, and copious amounts of smut
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 24
Kudos: 625





	Save You

If someone had asked him to recount the events leading up to that moment, Harry wasn’t completely sure he would have been able to. All he knew was he’d had enough of sitting in his room anxiously watching Malfoy’s dot disappear into the Room of Requirement and waiting for it to reappear hours later, without actually learning anything of consequence. He was tired of losing sleep over this. So instead of spending yet another Friday night staring at the Marauder’s Map from behind his closed bed-curtains by Lumos light, Harry had decided to wait for Malfoy outside the Room of Requirement and ambush him as he walked passed, and then demand answers at wand point. 

He hadn’t really had the details of this plan hammered out when he set up shop beneath the invisibility cloak in the corridor, but when did Harry Potter ever make plans? And things worked out fine regardless. Usually. 

And then Malfoy had walked passed and Harry had thrown off the invisibility cloak in a flurry of motion which had startled Malfoy so badly that he’d jumped, which had made him angry at himself for reacting, which made him even more provoking than he would have been anyways, and insults were thrown and then Malfoy had drawn his wand, and in order to stop  _ spells  _ from being thrown, Harry had shoved him against the wall, wrestled his wand from him, thrown it down the corridor, and then pinned him there by both wrists. 

Harry supposed he could have used magic for a similar effect, but that would have involved an  _ expelliarmus  _ and a  _ petrificus totalus  _ and honestly that was just too much work. 

Not that holding Malfoy here by brute force was much easier, mind you. For one thing, he was struggling, violently trying to shake himself free of Harry’s hold, but unluckily for him, Harry was both just a bit stronger than him and far more used to physical fighting due to his childhood with the Dursleys, and honestly, as the one doing the pinning -- Malfoy’s wrists in his hands, chests pressed together, feet planted for leverage -- Harry automatically had the upper hand here. Malfoy wasn’t going anywhere. 

And for another thing, Malfoy still hadn’t shut up. 

“Potter you fucking imbecile, can’t even fight like a wizard, fucking half-blood brute force idiotic son of a bitch.” Malfoy went on. Harry tuned in and out. He’d heard all these insults before, of course. He wasn’t going to let them make him angry. Nor was he going to let Malfoy distract him long enough to let him go. 

Harry knew what his plan was, the little coward. Convince Harry to let him go and have a proper duel with spells and presumably a whole load of pureblood customs and whatnot and then when Harry’s back was turned, run away. 

Harry wasn’t going to let him run away this time. He  _ needed  _ to know what he was up to. Needed to know it in a way that he didn’t quite understand, and didn’t particularly fancy thinking about too hard. 

“Potter are you even fucking  _ listening  _ to me, or have you just forgotten how to speak English? Do the muggles not talk this quickly? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” 

“YES Malfoy I fucking well understand you!” In Harry’s defense, there were a lot of things he could take without getting angry, but shouting in his face was not one of them. 

“Then why won’t you fucking well  _ listen  _ to me as well, and let me go so we can have a real duel? Unless you don’t think you’re stronger than me magically? Or are you a coward?” Malfoy blustered, still struggling all the while, but Harry could see through his bravado: he was scared. 

He was scared, and he was trying tactics that may have worked on Harry last year or two years ago, but sure as Hell wouldn’t work now. Maybe Malfoy didn’t know him as well as he thought he did. Harry looked him in the eye. And smiled. “Now why on earth would I do that. When I have you right here where I want you?” 

The change was immediate. Malfoy stopped struggling. The look on his face was one akin to horror. Seemed like he’d finally realized that escaping from this one might not be as easy as he thought it was. 

“What do you want from me?” Malfoy asked, his voice flat. Without inflection. Harry wondered who taught him to hide his fear from his voice like that. It was impressive. But it didn’t really matter. Because Harry could still see the fear in his eyes. 

“I want. To know what you’ve been doing in the Room of Requirement. I want to know if Snape has been helping you. I want to know if you’re a  _ Death Eater,  _ Malfoy.” Harry said, leaning closer. 

“And you think I’d just  _ tell  _ you those things, Potter?” 

“You don’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter right at the moment, from the looks of things, Malfoy.” 

“Don’t I?” Malfoy asked, and before Harry could figure out what that meant, Malfoy was struggling again more violently than ever, nearly wrenching one of his wrists free, but before he could escape, Harry stepped forward with one leg, placing it between Malfoy’s to hold him to the wall more tightly, and all the sudden Malfoy froze and Harry felt --

Slowly, Harry looked down between their bodies, confirming exactly what he’d thought -- that Malfoy was getting  _ hard  _ from this -- and then slowly raised his eyes back to Malfoy’s, finding the other boy absolutely frozen in terror, eyes wide, now trying to press himself back into the wall to distance himself from Harry, who only pressed back against him harder. 

Harry wasn’t sure what to say, other than, “This explains. So much.” 

And as if those were the words he dreaded hearing most, as if Harry’s voice woke him from some sort of paralysis of fear, all the strength suddenly went out of Malfoy’s body all at once so that Harry -- rather than keeping him from escaping -- was physically supporting his weight to keep him from collapsing, and Harry could feel his entire body trembling and could feel his heart pounding through both their shirts, and Merlin, Harry knew the signs of a panic attack when he saw one, but the idea that Malfoy was having one  _ now  _ over  _ this  _ was -- 

And now he was going even paler than usual and honestly he looked like he might pass out, and Harry really didn’t want to deal with an unconscious Malfoy at this time of night, so he took a step back and released Malfoy’s wrists, but rather than run away, Malfoy slid to the ground and sat trembling in the fetal position, and Harry just looked at him for a second from above and thought:  _ If our roles were reversed he would leave me here without a second thought.  _

But Harry wasn’t Malfoy. And there were moments in life in which one person’s reaction to another can change the course of things forever. This was one of those moments. And Harry knew that if he made the wrong decision -- the cowardly decision -- right now, he would regret it for the rest of his life. 

Harry dropped down to his knees beside him. “Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy, Merlin fuck, Draco?” 

Malfoy had had his face hidden in his arms, but he looked up abruptly at the sound of his first name on Harry’s lips. He looked so mortally terrified that Harry’s heart broke a little, especially when he said, “Are you going to hurt me? Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

He hid his face away again as if unable to believe he’d just said any of those words when Harry didn’t answer. For his part, Harry was in a state of mild shock. 

Malfoy had never apologized to him once in his life. And he apologizes over this? 

“Mal-- Draco. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Draco -- Harry couldn’t seem to think of him as “Malfoy” right now -- just curled even tighter into a ball as if there was no way in Hell he was believing that. 

Harry sighed. What was he going to do with him? First of all, they were in the middle of the hallway after curfew, and second of all, there was no way Harry was leaving him alone until he no longer looked like he was going to die of a heart attack, so what Harry really needed was a place to -- Room of Requirement!

Harry stood up, backed up a few steps, wary of Draco running away now more than ever, but the other boy seemed too far out of a normal state of mind to even  _ think  _ of escaping right now, and sure enough when Harry began pacing in front of the wall concealing the entrance to the Room of Requirement thinking  _ I need somewhere where Malfoy will relax _ he didn’t move even a centimeter. 

When Harry walked back up to him, however, he visibly started shaking more violently, and Harry didn’t suppose he could blame him. But how was Harry going to convince him to trust him? 

He knelt back down again. “Draco?” 

Draco jolted again at the sound of his first name, but seemed that trick would only work once. He kept his face hidden. 

Harry considered for a second, then slowly reached out and laid a hand on Draco’s arm -- another jolt -- gave Draco a second to adjust to his touch, then slid his hand down to Draco’s wrist and gently pulled. 

At first Draco offered resistance, but quickly realize that was futile, and then reluctantly allowed his arm to be extracted from the tightly curled ball of his body, clearly expecting the worst, but when all Harry did was clasp Draco’s hand between both of his, Draco looked up in confusion, which only increased when he met eyes far more kind than he was expecting. 

A moment passed, and in that moment, something passed between them. Something that had no name, of which no description would suffice, but nevertheless existed, and something in the way Draco was holding himself shifted. 

“Come on, Draco, up.” Harry said, in a voice that was kind, but offered no alternatives. Draco allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. But when Harry started guiding him to the entrance of the Room of Requirement, he started tensing up again, until Harry said, “Malfoy, do you really think I’m going to be kind to you out here just to lead you to some sort of private torture instead?” 

There was no answer, which was answer enough in Harry’s mind. 

“Well I’m not.” Harry said, sarcasm gone. He pulled his wand. Draco tensed even more, but all Harry did was cast “ _ accio  _ Draco’s wand” and grab it out of the air once it arrived. Harry looked at it for a second, then held it out to Draco in offering. 

Draco was looking at him like he was concerned he was an imposter by now. Harry just continued holding out his wand. Draco reached forward slowly as if afraid it was a prank, and then when Harry still didn’t move, reached out quickly and snatched his wand back, clutching it tight to his chest as if to protect it. His eyes asked the question. 

“Are you going to attack me right now?” Harry countered. 

Draco studied him. He shook his head. 

“Good then.” Harry said, pulling him forward again, and this time Draco offered no resistance. 

They reached the entrance to the Room of Requirement, and Harry pulled open the door to reveal -- he gave one single chuckle. Of course. The room had transformed into a bedroom -- not unlike a hotel room, to be honest -- with a full size bed, a bedside table, and an armchair, all done up in Slytherin colors. 

Harry pulled Draco into the room, closed the door behind them, walked him over to bed, sat him down on the edge of it, and then took the armchair himself, and studied Draco across the few feet between them, leaning forward in consideration. 

Draco just stared back at him, no longer in the midst of a panic attack, but clearly still wary, and honestly, bloody confused about what the fuck was going on here. 

After a moment of this, Harry spoke. “What was that, Draco?” he supposed it would have felt more natural to call him “Malfoy” again at this point, but Harry forced himself not to. For once, he didn’t want to have an argument with him. 

“What on earth is  _ this?”  _ Draco countered, far more concerned with the way all this was completely off-script right now, and therefore he had no idea how Harry was going to react or what he was going to do next. 

Harry considered the question for a moment. What  _ was  _ this? What had induced him to care so much so suddenly about why being caught in his arousal caused Draco Malfoy to have a panic attack? There was really only one answer. “This is because no one deserves to look that terrified of being gay.” 

Draco froze again, fear filling his eyes as if the very mention of it brought him mere seconds from that same mortal panic. Harry stood up, walked slowly over to the bed -- Draco watched him with wide eyes -- and sat down beside him. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? You’re gay, and someone told you that’s wrong. Who was it?” 

Draco said nothing, just scooted back onto the bed, pulling his knees up close to his body again, shaking his head, but not like he was saying Harry was wrong, but like he wanted Harry to stop talking. 

But Harry couldn’t stop talking. This was too important. “Was it your father? It was your father, wasn’t it? He said something about how Malfoys can’t be gay, and something else about carrying on the family line, and something  _ else  _ about disgusting filthy queers, and then he threatened you with magic, because Malfoys don’t fight with fists, and now you’re absolutely terrified. Am I right?” 

“Why are you doing this?” Draco’s voice was so small. Smaller than Harry had ever heard it. Smaller than it was when he spoke to his father in public. Smaller than Harry had ever imagined it being. Without the edge of malice it usually carried, Harry found that it didn’t sound exactly the same. Much less repulsive than usual. Not repulsive at all, really. 

“Because your father’s  _ wrong,  _ Draco. He’s wrong about a lot of things, but especially this one.” Harry said, sliding closer to him again. 

“What do you know?” Draco burst out suddenly, “You’re not cursed with this --” he broke off. 

“Am I not?” Harry asked, allowing the slightest tinge of amusement to color his voice. Draco looked up in shock. He didn’t move as Harry crawled behind him, placing his hands on his shoulders. Harry leaned forward to speak softly in his ear, and said, “What do I know, you ask? I know a lot of things, Draco.” 

Draco scrambled around to face him, and when he met Harry’s eyes, Harry knew that Draco understood what he meant. There was fear in his eyes still, but also some interest, and something akin to desperation. And suddenly all Harry could think was how much he wanted this boy to know just how much better it was to give in to your feelings than ignore them. How many of the pleasures of life Lucius wanted to keep from him. And how much Harry wanted to kiss him. 

“You know what one of those things that I know is?” Harry asked, watched as Draco cautiously shook his head. At least he didn’t move any further away when Harry slid closer to him. At least he wasn’t curled up in a ball anymore, shaking in fear of attack both external and internal. Harry liked him better this way. 

“I know you’re attracted to me.” It was a bold statement to make, but from the way Draco’s face flushed, the way his breathing got just the slightest bit heavier, the way he didn’t say anything at all, Harry knew he was right. 

Now, to find out just how right he was. “But what I don’t know, Draco, is the details. And I want to know them. Tell me, when you do things to provoke me, is it just because you want my attention?” 

A charged second passed, and then Draco nodded. Harry got up on his knees and gently grabbed Draco by the arms. 

“And when you argue with me in the corridors, do you ever think about kissing me instead?” 

Another second. Another nod. 

Harry gently pushed so that Draco laid back amongst the pillows. Draco went back without resistance, looking almost dazed, like he’d gone past confused and landed in a place where everything felt like a dream. 

“And when you have my full attention, when my eyes are on you, does it make you hard?” 

A nod, more forthcoming than the last few. Harry could see the cautious hope in his eyes, and felt like he could read his thoughts in that moment, felt like he knew him in some fundamental way. 

Harry swung one leg over Draco’s body, settling gently on top of him, careful not to press their groins together yet, and leaned forward so that their faces were inches apart. 

“And when you touch yourself, late at night in your bed with a silencing charm up, long after your roommates have fallen asleep, in that hazy world where you can’t control what you think and feel anymore, who do you think of?” 

This was a risk, Harry knew. A question that demanded an answer. It could easily have gone wrong, but then -- 

“You.” Draco whispered, soft and vulnerable in a way Harry had never imagined him, absolutely  _ pliant  _ beneath him, and  _ then  _ he said, “Always you.” and Harry absolutely melted. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.” 

Harry kissed him. He kissed him as gently as he possibly could, coaxing him softly to part his lips, and when he did, Harry slid his tongue inside his mouth to explore, and Draco just  _ let  _ him in a way that made Harry pull back and ask, “Is this your first kiss?” 

“Yes.” 

Harry kissed him again. A few moments later, he shifted forward a bit and felt their clothed erections press together for the first time, and the way Draco gasped at the unexpected pleasure, and a desperate heat filled Harry and he found himself asking, “And when you think about us together, what do we do?” before he even realized he was going to say the words. 

Draco looked at him like a deer in headlights. Harry laughed softly and nudged his nose with his own. Harry decided that playing games once he’d already got Draco to admit to it wasn’t very nice. “I mean that I want to have sex with you. But I don’t know how far you want to go, and I don’t want to push you.” 

There was silence for a moment, then, “That’s incredibly direct.” The words were strangled and flustered. 

Harry laughed. “I’m an incredibly direct person.” 

“Believe me, I know that.” Draco said, but he didn’t sound annoyed about it. Harry was glad of that. 

“When you fantasize about this, do we just suck each other off, or do we have real sex?” 

Draco turned red, but after a few moments in which Harry waited patiently for an answer, he said, “Real sex.” 

Harry nodded, almost impressed. The very fact that he’d brought himself to imagine enjoying fucking another guy while so convinced that being gay was disgusting was a feat of its own. 

But that of course begged the question, “Who tops?” 

There was silence that made Harry wonder, “Do you know what it --” 

“Yes I know what it means.” Draco snapped, and Harry nodded. 

Harry waited for the answer to his question. 

When no answer was forthcoming, he leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Who tops, Draco?” 

“You do.” Draco answered and then squeezed his eyes shut like he was afraid to see judgement or smug satisfaction on Harry’s face. 

How to convince him that if he opened his eyes he wouldn’t see either? 

“And do you want me to top you now? If you don’t, then you can fuck me instead.” 

Draco’s eyes flew open at that. “You mean you would… you don’t think it’s…” he trailed off. He looked like he had no idea how to do this. Harry felt sorry for him, then. There was no worse way to be ruined than to be ruined by your own family. Harry knew that better than anyone. 

“I would. I have before.” Harry answered, truthfully. 

Draco looked at him with wide, lost eyes, like a child who just learned that nothing was the way they’d thought it was. And wasn’t quite sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet. 

He looked like he felt trapped. Harry moved so he was lying beside him, rather than on top of him, but he didn’t go far away. He had the weirdest feeling that if he stopped touching him, Draco would wake up from whatever daze kept him here, so soft and so beautiful, and everything would go back to the way it was before. 

Draco did not ask Harry if he was telling the truth. He didn’t need to. He could hear it in his voice. Instead he asked, “And have you… you know. The other way?” 

He wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes, and Harry wanted to smile at his embarrassment. It was cute. “Yes. I don’t mind either. It depends on the person. And the situation.” 

“And right now, the situation is?” 

The question was big, but Harry gave it a small answer. “Whatever you want it to be.” 

“Oh.” 

Draco looked everywhere but at Harry, as if hoping to find the answers written on the walls somewhere, and after a few seconds had passed in complete silence, he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Hey.” Harry said, gently stroking a finger across Draco’s eyebrow, down his cheek, and to his jaw. Draco squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. Harry studied the tension in his face, and wished he could smooth it out. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know how… this is all so… I can’t even say the  _ words,  _ then how can I…” Draco tried to curl into himself, but Harry wouldn’t let him. Harry had never seen another person so vulnerable in his life. He marveled at the idea that this had existed inside of Draco Malfoy as he’d always been. 

Harry could hear how he had suffered, and he ached for it. 

“I used to feel the same way.” Harry offered, and Draco tilted his head up towards Harry’s just the slightest bit. “I was raised by the muggles, yes? They’re not very nice people. In any way, really. But one of the ways in which they’re not very nice is that they’re homophobic.” 

Draco flinched at that word as if anything with the prefix “homo” was painful. 

“And I hid how I felt for a long time, even from myself, but at least I had the advantage of knowing they were wrong about a lot of things, so maybe they were wrong about this as well. The Dursleys, I mean.” Draco was watching him through half-lidded eyes now. “And the first time I kissed a boy, I was so  _ scared, _ Draco, but I also felt free. Like the whole world was opening up in front of me.” 

Draco was fully meeting his eyes now. He was looking at Harry like he had the ability to give him the universe. It was almost overwhelming. “And now? How do you feel now?” 

“In general? Like there’s nothing I’m more grateful for than the fact that I decided to tell myself the truth. Right now?” How did Harry feel right now? “Like I want to save you.” 

Draco closed his eyes, and when he opened them again Harry saw that it was because he was holding back tears. “No one has ever said anything like that to me before.” he whispered. 

“I’ll say it again if you want.” 

Draco let out a desperate laugh. “I don’t know how to do this.” he said again. 

“What do you  _ want _ ?” Harry asked, gently. 

There was silence for a moment, and Harry watched as Draco struggled with something. He had a feeling he knew what it was, and there was no way in heaven or hell he would push him right now. 

Harry waited another moment, then said again, “What do you want, Draco?” 

“I want you to top me.” Draco said, all in a rush, breathing heavy, looking like a beautiful mess, and Harry had never wanted to fulfill a request more than that one. 

For one second, fear flashed through Draco’s eyes of the kind that lurks in the darkest corners of all our souls. 

But then Harry smiled and said, “You managed to say it after all.” like nothing in the world could please him more, and then he kissed him again. 

Draco kissed this time with desperation. Like he sought something that only Harry could give him. Like Harry had just turned everything upside down, and if he left now, there would be nothing left. Harry didn’t intend to. 

He reached up to the knot of Draco’s tie, kissing him as he undid the knot, but pulling back from the kiss as he slowly pulled it free from his neck, and then discarded it on the floor. He pulled Draco up into a sitting position, and pushed his robes off his shoulders, then watched as Draco slid his arms free of the sleeves, leaving the robes piled beneath him. Harry went up to his knees and held Draco’s eyes as he undid his own tie and robes, dropping both on the floor as well. But when Harry reached out to undo the buttons of Draco’s shirt, he pulled back and looked away. 

Harry scrunched his eyebrows together. “What is it? You should know that I plan to do this thoroughly.” 

There was a silence that was heavier than any they’d encountered yet that night. 

When Draco didn’t answer, Harry realized abruptly what was wrong. “Oh. Draco, I already know. And it doesn’t matter. Not right now.” 

“Of course it matters.” Draco said, softly. 

“Not right now.” Harry repeated. He scooted closer again. This time, when he went for Draco’s shirt buttons, he didn’t pull away. Harry undid each one purposefully slowly, and when he was done, he pulled the sleeves off Draco’s arms one by one, saving the left for last. But finally, the shirt was gone, and there it was: the dark mark. Black against Draco’s pale skin. Harry kept his unspoken promise not to flinch. 

He gently grabbed Draco’s left wrist, and gently turned his arms so that the dark mark was facing up, then moved in a little bit closer so he could see it better. Draco looked at him in confusion.

“Never seen one up close before.” Harry murmured. He sat beside Draco so he could see it from his perspective. He changed his hold of Draco’s wrist to his left hand, so he could gently stroke the marked skin with his right. Draco shivered violently at his touch. 

“They say that He can feel it when someone touches it.” Draco said, far more fear than respect in his voice. “They say He can spy on us whenever he wants.” 

Harry considered his own experiences. He thought that might actually be true. “Let him watch.” Harry said, smirking wickedly. 

Draco just looked at him. 

There’s no way in Hell Harry could have defined what was in his eyes at that moment. 

“He’d have to go through me to hurt you anyway.” Harry said, grabbing Draco’s other wrist, and bringing both his hands to his own shirt buttons. Draco continued to just look at him. “Go on.” Harry coaxed. 

Draco undid Harry’s shirt like he was performing a delicate operation. Harry watched his face and thought about how serious concentration looked good on him. 

And then they were both shirtless, and Draco seemed to realize where this had to go next. He looked at Harry like they stood on the edge of an abyss and he held the rope. Harry lowered him back down amongst the blankets and then scooted down the bed so he could start with his shoes, kicking off his own once he got there. 

Harry removed the rest of Draco’s clothing like he was unwrapping a gift and wanted to keep the paper. And when he reached the button of his trousers, Draco closed his eyes, and didn’t open them again until Harry hooked his fingers on the outside edges of his pants. 

Then Draco opened his eyes and met Harry’s, as if forcing himself not to be a coward, and nodded. Harry smiled, and said, “Somehow this is the most terrifying part, isn’t it?” 

Harry removed his pants, and then Draco was lying there, naked and vulnerable, breath coming shallow and hands clenched into fists. 

Harry wrapped a hand around Draco’s half hard cock, and slowly stroked him, watching in pleasure as he whimpered and bucked up into the sensation. “God, you’re gorgeous.” Harry said, still stroking him slowly, teasing a thumb over his head, watching the way Draco had his eyes closed again and wishing he’d open them. 

But at least that meant that when Harry lowered his head and licked a stripe along the vein on the underside of Draco’s cock, he let out the most delicious sound of surprised pleasure, almost good enough to make up for hiding those beautiful eyes of his. 

Harry teased him with his tongue for a while, loving the way he reacted to every new sensation with almost astonished pleasure, as if he’d never imagined that what he was missing was  _ so much.  _

Eventually, Harry pulled back for a second, stroked Draco two times quickly, then paused. He waited until Draco had opened his eyes to see what was happening, and then he took him into his mouth. 

Draco gasped and threw his head back and bucked his hips up so violently that Harry had to hold them down as Harry started sucking him in earnest. He felt hot and heavy and perfect on Harry’s tongue, and he tasted like precum and skin, and the way he threw his head back and forth and shook made Harry delirious with want. 

Harry pulled off with a pop long before Draco was close to orgasm, and scooted up his body to kiss him. Draco whimpered at the loss of pleasure. Harry chuckled and said, voice rough, “You don’t want to come yet. Trust me, it’s better if you don’t.” 

Draco’s expression was intoxicated with desire, but he still managed a nod before kissing Harry back, and Harry was glad he was calm now, because he knew the fear would come back as soon as the reality of what they were about to do sunk in. 

He gave it a few minutes, and then pulled back far enough to shuck off his own trousers and pants, and then crawled back over to Draco, who was staring at Harry’s cock with something akin to mild surprise. 

“You had to have known I’d be hard for you by now.” Harry teased gently, acknowledging Draco’s stare. 

Draco flushed. “I just. For me?” he asked, which seemed like a ridiculous question, but Harry knew what he meant. Not just hard because he was about to have sex. Hard because he was about to have sex with  _ Draco. _

“For you.” Harry answered, and leaned in to kiss him again. 

Harry indulged himself in the kiss, trying to reassure Draco with every stroke of his tongue. When Draco’s hand trailed slowly down Harry’s stomach, pausing just after his bellybutton as if gathering its courage, and then gently wrapped itself around Harry’s cock, Harry broke the kiss and gasped, nudging Draco’s cheek with his nose to get him to open his eyes. 

There was a particular type of fear in Draco’s eyes, and Harry knew what it was: touching another boy’s cock was somehow different than letting him touch you. More purposeful. Harder to deny, to yourself or anyone else. 

There was a pause where they just stared at each other, probably only a few seconds, but to Harry it felt like an eternity. And then Draco began stroking him, slowly, tentatively, and Harry could almost hear him thinking “I know how to do this, it’s just like touching myself.” 

Harry made sure to let Draco see every bit of pleasure he was giving him in his eyes, on his face, in the way he kissed him again once Draco seemed a bit less overwhelmed by what he was doing. 

Harry let him stroke him until he felt like if it went on much longer he would come, and then reached down and grabbed Draco’s wrist. Draco looked up at him with eyes that asked if he did something wrong. Harry smiled to reassure him, “I’m too close, and I don’t want to come yet. What comes next will be better.” 

Draco nodded and let him go, and Harry laced their fingers together, bringing their joined hands up to the bed beside Draco’s head. Draco glanced over at them before bringing his eyes back to Harry’s. His eyes said, “I trust you.” There was fear there, Harry could only imagine what horror stories Draco had been told about this, what it meant, what it involved, what it made you. And yet he was looking at him with trust. 

Harry had never felt such a profound desire to protect someone in his entire life, nor such profound  _ desire  _ in general.  _ God  _ he wanted to know every inch of his body. “I want to try something.” 

Draco looked apprehensive. Harry supposed that was fair. There were so many somethings he could have meant right now. 

“You’ll like it. Ever heard that queers eat arse?” The way Draco’s eyes widened at that was worth the joke. Harry kissed him one more time, and then climbed off him. “Can you turn over for me?” 

He kept his voice soft as he asked, but Draco still hesitated. It was a hard thing to do to give up so much control. Even harder for someone like Draco to make a gesture of such submission. And besides, Harry knew that Draco had been relying on the look in Harry’s eyes to guide him through this. Harry was asking him to trust him even when he couldn’t see him. 

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” Harry said, and he had never meant anything more. 

Draco studied him a few more seconds, and then, like a man stepping off a cliff and trusting the landing, he rolled over onto his stomach. 

“Legs apart.” Harry requested. Draco moved them apart, and Harry immediately situated himself between them. Draco’s arse was beautiful, and Harry couldn’t wait to be inside him. 

“I’m going to touch you now.” Harry warned him, and waited for Draco’s answering nod to place his hands gently on each side of his arse, kneading him gently, waiting for him to relax his muscles, admiring the curve of his back and the sight of his pale skin all flushed. 

Once Harry judged him relaxed enough, he gently pulled his arse cheeks apart to see his hole, and there it was, pink and furled and surrounded by soft blonde hair. Harry ran his thumb across it, shivering at the way Draco clenched the muscle as Harry passed over it, then softly stroked his finger around it, allowing Draco to get used to being touched there. The other boy’s breath was coming heavy, with what Harry hoped was pleasure. 

“Okay?” Harry asked. 

Draco’s, “Yes.” was shaky, but certain. 

Harry muttered a wandless cleaning charm over him, and watched as Draco shivered as it ran through him. Harry lowered himself onto his stomach between Draco’s legs, and brought his fingers away from his hole to hold him open. He leaned in close and blew on the skin of Draco’s arsehole. Harry smiled at the way he jumped. “Ready?” 

Draco’s answering nod communicated his nerves, and filled Harry with the strong desire to get him writhing in pleasure beneath him. He leaned in and licked a stripe across Draco’s hole. Draco’s sharp intake of breath was a gratifying response. “Good?” 

“Weird.” Draco said, in a breathless tone. 

“Good weird?” Harry asked. He thought he knew the answer. 

“Yeah.” Draco said, after a second. 

Harry smirked. “Good.” and lowered his head to lick him again. 

A few broad stroke of his tongue, and Draco was already relaxing, and when Harry focused in on his hole, clasping his mouth around it and sucking and licking in earnest, Draco arched his back instinctually to give him better access, and Harry took the invitation without hesitation. He teased him with the tip of his tongue, tracing it around his hole, reveling in the way he clenched and released, and soon enough, he felt him relaxing beneath his ministrations, and wet with saliva, Draco’s body allowed him to press his tongue inside him just the smallest bit. 

Harry played at fucking with his tongue, and Draco pressed back into it, absolutely lost to pleasure now, self-consciousness left far behind. The noises that were falling from his lips were absolutely gorgeous, Harry lingered over the spots that made him release the most of them, and after a few more moments of this, he pressed one last kiss over Draco’s arsehole and pulled back. 

Harry thought about how he needed lube, and the Room of Requirement provided it, popping into existence on the bedside table. Harry picked up the little jar and opened it. Draco glanced over his shoulder at the sound of the lid, his hair a wreck, his eyes soft with pleasure, but at the sight of Harry coating his fingers in lube, a hint of sobriety returned to them. 

“Relax. Don’t tense up. I’m assuming you’ve never tried doing this to yourself?” Harry asked. 

Draco’s widened eyes were answer enough to that. “Ok. We’re going to go really slow. One finger.” 

Harry applied a generous heap of lube to Draco’s hole, and then pressed one finger against the opening, not breaching yet, and met his eyes. Draco nodded in answer to Harry’s unspoken question. Harry slowly began to press his finger inside. 

Draco started to tense up as Harry penetrated him, so Harry stopped and said, “Don’t do that. Push back against me. You have to let me in.” 

“You mean like…” Draco whispered shakily, and then Harry could feel him loosen up again. 

“Exactly.” Harry slid his finger fully inside. “You’re doing so well, Draco, you’re doing  _ so  _ well.” 

Harry slid his finger back out and then pushed it back in, starting to twist it. “Yeah?” Draco asked. 

“ _ Yes. _ ” Harry said, privately amused and unsurprised to learn that Draco liked praise in bed. “You look gorgeous around my finger. You’re taking it  _ so  _ well.” 

Draco let out the most delicious whimper at his words, and his hips lifted to meet the next thrust of Harry’s finger. In fact, he was loose enough now for Harry to feel confident asking, “Time for another?” 

Draco nodded eagerly. Harry smiled and pulled his finger free to get more lube, and then returned with two. “It’s going to stretch now. But if it hurts too much, you need to tell me.” Harry said, seriously. 

Draco looked a bit more apprehensive, but still he nodded, and Harry knew he’d done the right thing telling him the truth. 

He began to slowly press two fingers inside him, keeping them tightly pressed together for now, and about halfway in he saw Draco wince. He paused. “Ok?” 

“Hurts.” Draco said, quietly, like he thought Harry would be mad at him for it. 

Harry’s heart hurt at just the idea of that. “I know. It’s alright. I can stop if you want, but I promise it’s worth it. The pain goes away. And then it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever felt.” 

Harry waited patiently for Draco’s verdict. A few moments later he said, “You can keep going. I just --” 

“What is it?” 

Draco shook his head. 

“Tell me.” Harry demanded, but softly. He didn’t want Draco to do this if he wasn’t completely sure. 

“I just wish I could see you.” Draco whispered all in a rush, as if embarrassed to say it at all. 

Harry’s heart melted. He was enjoying the sight of his fingers moving in and out of Draco’s hole, but some things were far more important than that. He pulled his fingers free and said, “Roll over.” Draco did so. He was blushing bright red, and his eyes were squeezed shut. 

Harry grabbed a spare pillow and said, “Lift your hips.” Draco obeyed, and Harry stuck the pillow beneath him, lifting him up for a better angle. Harry lay beside him, and said, “You’re going to have to spread your legs really wide. Can you do that for me?” 

Draco opened his legs, still without opening his eyes. “That’s perfect.” Harry said, reaching down to press his fingers back inside him. Harry quickly learned the advantages of this position, because now he could watch Draco’s face, and see every time twitch of pleasure or pain or discomfort and respond in kind. 

There was one problem, though. “Open your eyes, Draco.” Harry said, slowly fucking him with both fingers now, intoxicated with the way he could see Draco beginning to love the feeling of fullness, of being filled, watching him bite his lip and tilt his head back. Harry leaned in and kissed his neck. “Open your eyes.” 

When he leaned his head back, Draco’s eyes were open. They were soft and vulnerable. Harry scissored his fingers and watched him wince. He nuzzled his face in wordless apology, knowing the stretch was inevitable. But soon enough, Harry deemed him loose enough, and began searching for something, watching him closely because he wanted to see Draco’s face when he found --  _ there  _ it was. Harry pressed his fingers against Draco’s prostate, and he gasped with wild pleasure slurring out, “Ohmygod what was that?” 

“Prostate.” Harry said, pressing against it again, and loving the way Draco squirmed with pleasure. “Didn’t know it was there?” he teased. 

Draco shook his head, too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak. 

“Most blokes don’t. It’s like a secret. But now you know about it and you’ll never be able to forget it.” Harry said, letting a hint of smugness into his voice, and pulled his fingers out to place three at his entrance. “Ready for more?” 

Draco nodded, and Harry pressed in with three. He wanted to be inside him, but knew he needed to make sure he was properly prepared first. But soon enough, Draco was taking three fingers easily, they were sliding in and out with little resistance, and Draco was lifting his hips to meet them, clearly getting desperate for more, but unwilling to ask. 

Harry paused fingering him and asked, “Ready for my cock now?” 

Draco was silent for a long moment, so Harry pressed down against his prostate again just to watch the wave of pleasure wrack his body. “Yes. Yes, please fuck me.” Draco gasped out through the pleasure, and Harry pulled his fingers out and said, “Gladly.” 

Harry took in the sight of Draco as he slicked up his cock, lying there disheveled and pink skinned, breathing heavy, blonde hair messy, eyes soft with pleasure, cock hard and leaking, and God, he’d never seen anything hotter in his life. It was all Harry could do to stop stroking himself rather than come all over his chest. 

Harry applied one more scoop of lube to Draco’s entrance, then climbed over him and lined himself up. 

“Ready?” Harry asked, kissing him once. 

“Yes.” Draco said, and Harry began to press inside him. As the head of his cock popped inside, Draco arched into him with a slight wince, and Harry waited for his nod to keep going. It was agony keeping up this slow pace, but Harry held himself back from slamming into him, knowing he needed to keep it gentle for now. 

As his cock disappeared into Draco’s body inch by inch, Harry began muttering sweet nothings, “You feel so good, baby, you’re so tight, you’re so amazing, you’re taking me so well” and Draco responded to the praise as much as he did to this new profound feeling of fullness, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist and clenching one hand in Harry’s hair and the other in the sheets. 

Once he was all the way in, Harry paused to let Draco adjust and peppered kisses all over his face, and then moved down to suck on his neck. As he waited for Draco to be ready, Harry brought a hand up to one of Draco’s nipples to play with it, remembering that he hadn’t shown him this particular facet of pleasure yet. Watching Draco gasp in surprised pleasure yet again as Harry tugged gently on his nipple was almost enough to distract Harry from how desperate he was to  _ move _ . 

But then Draco said, “You can go now. I mean, you can move. I’m ready.” and Harry let out a sigh of relief as he pulled out slowly, and then pushed back in, watching Draco’s face for any sign of pain. When none appeared, Harry moved more confidently, keeping the pace slow for now, but fucking deeper, searching for Draco’s prostate and setting a steady pace at the same time. 

Harry knew he found it when Draco said, “Oh fuck  _ yes _ .” One more thrust and Draco was gasping out, “Faster, please?” as if that was a request Harry wouldn’t want to grant. 

Harry pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in, watching as Draco arched his back and nearly screamed, hands scrambling down Harry’s back to grab his arse and squeeze, as if desperate for him to keep up this pace. 

Harry let himself go, slamming into Draco with enough force to move the bed, nonsense falling from Draco’s lips, including Harry’s name and faster and fuck yeah, and all Harry knew was his own body and Draco’s beneath him, hot and slick around his cock, and he knew he would come soon if Draco didn’t first, so he said, “Touch yourself.” and Draco shamelessly wrapped his hand around his own cock and started pulling in time with Harry’s thrusts. 

And then Draco was coming and he was clenching around Harry’s cock in spasms of pleasure and he was coating both their chests with come, and Harry had never seen anything sexier in his entire life. Harry’s orgasm hit like a freight train, like the end of the world, like he was dying, and he spilled into Draco absolutely lost in pleasure, fucking him through it, until with one last thrust he was done. 

Harry collapsed on top of Draco and kissed him still inside him, and Draco kissed back just as desperately, and it was the kind of kiss shared by lovers, and Harry found he didn’t mind that at all. A few more moments and Harry broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Draco’s to catch his breath, still breathing into each other's mouths as if desperate to stay close. 

Once he regained enough energy to move, Harry carefully pulled out of Draco, apologizing as he winced. Harry sat back and watched his own come drip out of Draco’s arsehole mixed with lube and felt very self-satisfied. 

Harry just watched him for one more second, then lay next to him and gathered him into his arms, rubbing his back gently. He wished he knew what the fuck he was going to do now that it was over. 

It only took him a few moments to realize Draco was crying. He was trying to hide it, but Harry could feel the way his body shook and heard the sounds he was trying to conceal. Harry slid down a few inches so that they were face to face and rubbed his lips gently against Draco’s and then whispered, “What’s wrong?” 

Draco shook his head and said, “It’s -- you’ll think it’s stupid.” 

“I promise I won’t. Please tell me.” Harry whispered, hating seeing him like this when only moments before he was blissed out with pleasure. He hoped it wasn’t anything he’d done. 

“Y-You’re going to leave me. And the Dark Lord is going to kill me, and He’s going to kill my mother, and-- and -- I told you you’d think it was stupid.” 

Harry pressed kisses to Draco’s cheeks, then over his closed eyelids and whispered, “This is my fault, isn’t it? I said Voldemort could watch if he wanted. I’m sorry. I’m sure he doesn’t actually know, baby, I’m sure he has other things to do than watch you all the time, the fucking bastard.” 

“It’s not just that. I’m supposed to fix -- something. And it’s not working, and I’m -- I’m supposed to kill Professor Dumbledore and I can’t do it and I don’t think I could ever do it, Harry, he’s going to kill me.” Draco told him all in a rush through his tears, and Harry’s mind rushed to keep up with all this new information. 

“He will not kill you. I won’t let him.” was all Harry could think to say. What else was there to say? 

Draco glared at him through watery eyes. “I have a fucking mark on my arm, Potter, I can’t just leave. And he has my mother. I can’t let him kill her.” 

“Then we tell Dumbledore. We tell him everything. What Voldemort has ordered you to do, the fact that he’s threatening your mother, and that you don’t want to serve him anymore and I -- you  _ don’t  _ want to serve him anymore, yes?” 

Draco looked fierce, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. “I never really  _ wanted  _ to serve him in the first place. I had to take Father’s place when he went to prison. It was either that or my mother take the mark, and there’s no way in Hell I’d let her do that. She never wanted to be a Death Eater.” 

Harry felt uncomfortably aware that this was also his fault. “Then let me help you. Let  _ us  _ help you. Dumbledore has resources. And --” Harry was going to say it wasn’t the first time he’d taken a repentant Death Eater into his protection, but Harry abruptly realized that wasn’t his secret to tell. 

“What possible reason could Dumbledore have to want to help me?” 

“Besides the prospect of one less Death Eater in Voldemort’s army?” Draco glared as if to say of course besides that, “Me. I’ll demand he helps you. I’m sure he’s well aware that I can make his life incredibly difficult if he doesn’t accept the simple request to afford protection to you and your mother.” 

Draco studied his face. Draco’s own was less expressive than it had been during sex, but there was still a vulnerability there, a glimmer of emotion, as if a barrier had been broken between them permanently. Harry had the sudden feeling that he couldn’t wait until he’d broken every single one of them. 

“You mean that.” Draco said, but not like a question. Like something he knew was the truth but didn’t quite believe. Incredulous. 

“I do.” 

“Why?” 

Why indeed? Harry looked at him, and knew there was only one answer. “Because I like you.” 

Draco scoffed. 

“No, really. I like you. And not just because you’re the best fuck of my life.” 

Draco tried to conceal his smug smile at that, but failed. Harry couldn’t resist leaning in to give him a quick kiss. 

Draco looked at him for a long moment. Stared into his eyes. Saw Harry was fully serious. Saw that he would keep his promises. Began to imagine what the world could look like if he didn’t have to go crawling back to the Dark Lord and he could kiss Harry Potter in the corridors in front of everyone. There was really only one answer to give. “Yes.” 

“You mean...?” 

“I do.” 

Harry kissed him for real this time, endlessly hopeful that this was only the beginning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments make my day! <3


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